


Circuitry and Flesh

by Folle



Category: DCU, Justice League Action (Cartoon)
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/F, Frottage, M/M, Multi, Self-cest, sweet sweet robo sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 05:09:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14394975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Folle/pseuds/Folle
Summary: Set after Justice League Action episode 44: System Error. While clearing the android replicas of themself of any bugs or malicious software, the Justice League get a little more than naughty with their clones.





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> hehehehehhehehehehehehe sorry not sorry

Batman wasn’t entirely sure what to expect when he received an alert from, well, himself from somewhere on Apokolips. He theorized a future version of himself, or at the very least, someone with his transmitter or a copy of his alert signal. However, coming across not only himself, but Wonder Woman, Superman, Cyborg, and Booster Gold in a crumbling reality came as a minor shock, but the replicas spent no time rushing through the portal.

There was some confusion, on behalf of the Justice League of course, these alternate versions of themselves seemed relieved, but not at all confused on seeing clones. There were a few things that gave it away that these weren’t future versions of themselves. Himself saying “It’s Batman”, instead of “It’s me” was part of it. What really did it in was the fake Booster poking and prodding the real Booster’s face.

“We’re androids installed with artificial intelligence to mimic the Justice League, created by Darkseid to predict what you would do in real fights,” says the fake Batman, examining the watch tower as if it was the first time he had ever seen it before. While it had been, he had memories of it. Fake, implanted memories of course, but memories nevertheless. “Cyborg destroyed the data, along with the simulation and pocket dimension it was in.”

“To be honest, we thought we were all done for,” piped in the fake Booster. “I even gave a lil serious pep talk. I almost hugged you!”

Fake Batman glares up at the fake Booster who was floated. “Booster we almost died.”

“I know! That’s why I almost hugged you. Well, I was planning on more of a group hug thing, but, ya know, you were the only one who would have given me shit about it.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” shouts Booster. “First lesson is Booster school, is that I, the real Booster ‘Michael Carter’ Gold, does not swear. What if kiddins heard you?”

Fake Booster looks around the watch tower. “I’d hate to break it to myself, but there are no ‘kiddins’ in the watch tower. Man, the real me is such a dweeb!”

Batman narrows his eyes, shutting both Boosters up. “We received your distress signal. In Darkseid’s hand that data could have led to our destruction.”

“Thanks for all your help. What you did was incredibly…” Superman pauses for a moment, and smiles. “Human.”

“So what now?” asks Cyborg. “We’ve gone way beyond our original programming.”

“There’s plenty of other worlds. I’m sure one of them could use heroes like you.”

“Awwww yeah! Robo-Booster to the rescue baby! Hang on all you sick little planets you’re about to get a booster shot. We’re going to handle business Justice League style! Hey guys, look. I’m a robot, doing the robot!”

“I sound nothing like that,” says over himself, waving his hand and heat rising up in his face.

“It’s spot on, actually.” For the tiniest fraction of a second, a small smirk graces Batman’s face.

Darkseid had really outdone himself in terms of authenticity on the android replications of the Justice League. An actual functioning distress signal wired to be sent to the living Justice League? It was crafty, and ingenious. Not to mention that while their personalities were a bit off, the similarities were eerily similar.

It unnerved Superman to no end to see a perfect replica of himself standing right there in front of him. All other clones or alternate versions of himself always had something wrong with them, Bizzaro in particular coming to mind, along with the case of the red and blue versions. “Well, while we find somewhere for them to go, I say they stay at the watch tower in the meantime.”

Fake Batman nods. “A smart idea. We have no idea what other kind of fail safes Darkseid may have implemented in us. We already can’t physically attack parademons and Darkseid himself. Removing these and scanning for faults- faults- faults-” Fake Batman goes ridged and sparks before fake Superman thumps him on the back. “Sorry. Removing these and scanning for faults, _and_ repairing and damage,” he shoots a look at fake Wonder Woman. “Would be beneficial and prevent him from using us against you.”

Cyborg quirks an eyebrow. “Are we going to pretend that didn’t just happen? Batman, er, robo-Bats, you were sparking. I know, personally, that isn’t good.”

“I’m fine,” growls fake Batman. “I… sustained damage in our fight. Wonder Woman must have knocked some components loose when she-” He cuts himself and clears him throat. “It doesn’t matter. I’m certain the watch towers security system can run a program to scan and remove any software that keeps us under Darkseid’s hold. In the meantime, we should talk with ourselves. We don’t, ah, actually know much about ourselves, or at least I don’t.”

“Oh man, I get to talk to myself about my favorite topic? Come on robo-Booster, I have so much to teach you!” Booster grabs fake Booster by his wrists and zooms into the depths of the watch tower, not giving anyone any time to react.

Batman pinches the bridge of his nose. “I can handle the repairs on… myself. Cyborg, get the anti-malware running before you fill yourself in on yourself.”

“Consider it done, as long as you never say that again. Ever. I’m sure clone Cyborg can help me, right bud?”

“Man, don’t call me bud, it’s just weird. Really, really weird.”


	2. Batman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [playlist for this chapter can be found here](https://open.spotify.com/user/21w7ohzt6qoggbvcgsgmxecqq/playlist/3KWiJVmYHXjXKy9CKRWzqY)

Working with himself was like a tiny blessing. He didn’t need to say anything unnecessary, the android version of Batman already knew what to do as soon as he thought of it. The whole experience was a more than a little odd, and he was still getting used to seeing another copy of himself stalking behind him.

Batman would like to say that his spartan quarters at the watch tower were rarely used, but truth be told, there was more than one occasion when he would pass out at his workbench, or was working late in the lab, and find himself waking up his own bed without his cowl, cape, gloves, utility belt, and boots on. Nowhere on the security feed could he find who was doing it, but he was closing in on a suspect. Superman was a likely suspect, but he wouldn’t put it above Plastic Man, Booster Gold, or Stargirl.

The fake Batman sits down on the edge, and presses his fingers into his cheeks. Steam shoots out from previously unseen seams, and his face pops off, revealing a smooth metallic, glowing green circuitry, and jarringly red eyes. “My left eye should act as a button that starts an emergency internal maintenance subroutine. Hold it down for three seconds, let go, and press it again. I won’t be able to respond for the next five or so minutes while I repair myself, but I will hear you.”

“For someone who only found out they were an android a short while ago, you sure know a lot about yourself.”

“The destruction of the simulation has freed some of our shackles. I have… vague memories. This thing supposedly happened a lot, though it doesn’t surprise me.”

“How much about me do you actually know?”

Fake Batman looks down at the floor, twiddles his thumbs, and looks back up at Batman. “I know we are 35 years old, and a vigilante named Batman. We don’t kill anyone, no matter how much they are deserving of it, and we also abhor guns, but I don’t know why. Our arch nemesis is a man named Joker, who is insane and is obsessed with us, again, for reasons unknown.”

Batman presses the button, starting the maintenance routine. He sits down on the bed next to his copy, and is silent for a few moments, trying to gather his thoughts. “My- Our name is Bruce Wayne. When we were 8 years old, we were walking home with our parents, Martha and Thomas Wayne, after seeing a movie. They were shot and killed by a thug named Joe Chill. Since then, we have trained to make all criminals face justice for their crimes. We are currently CEO of Wayne Enterprises, but we spend most of our time as Batman, and working with the Justice League. Joker is…”

He pauses again, and is silent for a while before finally talking again. “Joker was a man we created. As Batman, we were trying to stop a robbery at Ace Chemical Plant, a hit made by the Red Hood Gang. Red Hood- Joker, was a former employee they blackmailed into helping them. I knocked him into a vat of acid. I’ve heard he was a mentally unstable man before that, but his disfiguration must have been what broke him. Everything else relating to Batman and the Justice League you likely already know. Bruce Wayne is the one thing Darkseid doesn’t have knowledge on.”

After a few more moments, a ding comes from fake Batman. He is quick to pop his face back on. “Thank you, that is all I didn’t know. I’ll be sure to ask you if I have any more questions. But for right now, could you remove your cowl? I’d like to see what our face looks like.”

Bruce is hesitant, of course. Taking his cowl off is not something he did often, and it was something he was not very comfortable doing, but even if he’s a Darkseid creation, he felt an overwhelming trust for his replica. He slips his cowl off, and wipes away the sweat slick hair glued to his forehead.

Fake Bruce carefully slips his fingers under the material of his own cowl, as if he wasn’t sure if it actually existed or not. The man underneath barely resembled Bruce at all. He of course had the same facial structure, but his eyes were a startling icy shade of blue, his hair slicked back and jet black, and thin, penciled in eyebrows. He opens a panel on his arm, and after typing in something into it, and closing it, the android’s face morphs. His eyes darken to black, thicker eyebrows seemingly sprout more hair, and his hair shimmers into a dark ash brown. Nearly identical.

“Impressive, hacking into the repair subroutine and using it to alter your physical appearance. I’m curious though…” Bruce removes one of his gloves, and runs his fingertips along fake Bruce’s cheek. “It’s synthetic, of course, but barely discernable from real skin.” His hand moves up to card through his doppelganger’s hair. “That’s real though. I’m concerned at how it was obtained.” He continues to run his hand along his twin’s face and body, mapping out the differences between his own, and finding all the hidden latches and panels along the way.

It isn’t until Bruce ungloves his other hand, and traces his fingers along the invisible seams on fake Bruce’s face that he notices that the other him has closed his eyes, and has a serene, placid expression on his face. It feels odd to admit it, but there was something oddly endearing about seeing that look on his own face, feeling up his own body. He isn’t surprised. The android was created for battle, and likely had never had the pleasure of down time, any friendly physical contact, or, ahem, “stress relief”. It was a battle Bruce was all too familiar with.

Bruce knows what he would want in that situation, so he acts on impulse as he removes his hands, and quietly slips down to his knees, nudging the android’s legs apart.

He looks down in brief confusion, before furrowing his eyebrows. “You don’t have to-”

“You need this.” He runs a finger down the groin of the suit, and manages to catch it along the neatly hidden seam. It was long needed addition after he realized how painful it was during long stakes having to pull his pants down to piss in a bottle, and how determined Joker became to pull his suit down after grabbing onto his legs when he fell off a roof. And how desperately he needed to do “business” sometimes after missions, and needed to quickly and discretely hide his “activities” from Alfred.

He’s just as careful pulling fake Bruce’s dick out – no underwear, he may add. He was longer and thicker than him, a solid eight inches long, thick enough to be just barely able to wrap his hand around, and uncut. He didn’t know whether to find it embarrassing or a bit of a turn on that his android was already half-hard. Bruce can feel heat creeping into his cheeks as he rhythmically strokes his clone’s cock to full hardness.

“You need this just as much as I do.” His voice quivers, but is hidden well. His eyes are lidded, and lips are just barely parted. His gloved hands twitch from where they keep a tight grip on the sheets.

Bruce Wayne is a playboy, so handjobs are something he’s used to, but as far as he knows, fake Bruce has never touched himself like this. Hell, he’s surprised he’s programed to be this responsive. Bruce briefly wonders about narcissism, as he leans down and gently sucks the head of fake Bruce’s cock.

Fake Bruce’s hips jolt forward, and he covers his mouth with a clamped hand, trying to stifle a quiet moan. His eyes stay glued on Bruce as he slowly works his lips down his cock.

It doesn’t taste like anything in particular, and the beads of fluid that dripped out from his cock had a faint salty taste to it, but it held none of the musk a man usually had. Or maybe it had been too long since Bruce had sucked a dick, and he’d forgotten. Lets see, if he remember correctly, the last time was when he was drunk a few years back, and there was that other benefactor at a charity gala…

Lost in thought, he doesn’t react when fake Bruce carefully pulls him from the floor and into the bed with him, or maybe he doesn’t care enough to fight him on it. _Or,_ the little voice in the back of his starts, _You just want someone to treat you for once, even it’s just yourself_. He shakes away that though, and lightly places a kiss to the other’s lips. They feel more realistic than his skin does, warm and malleable.

Bruce doesn’t even realize how hard he is until his copy worms his way past the seam in his suit, pulls his cock out of his briefs, and gently starts running his fingers along it, uncertain as to what to do. Almost like a teenager fumbling around with his first boyfriend.

Bruce rolls them over so he’s on top, and reaches for the for first aid pocket in his copy’s belt. Hidden all the way in the back, he finds a metallic packet of lubricant. He’s careful to rip it open, and squeeze the contents into the palm of his hand. He gets momentarily distracted by the heaving of the android’s chest as he slicks up his own cock, before moving to his.

As soon as he wraps his hand around both of their cocks, and starts moving, fake Bruce’s eyes flutter close, and he lets out a shaky sigh. His facial muscles twitch, and he tries his best to muffle his quiet moans with his gloved fist. He can’t control the jittering bucking of his hips up into Bruce’s fist, and believes is he just closes his eyes tight enough, he won’t cum right away.

Bruce rolls his hips rhythmically and steady, enjoying the tight, slick channel of his own hand, and the glide of another cock against his own. If he lets go, for a brief second, he can pretend it’s another person, and not just a duplicate of himself. Actual human connection with someone who knows him and cares about him. That thought alone feels better than any amount of masturbating.

“Christ, so good, so good,” mutters fake Bruce, winding his fingers into Bruce’s hair, and pulling him down to bump their foreheads together. He places feather light pecks to his lips. One of his hands slides, and God damn, if the tender way he runs him thumb across his cheek doesn’t get to him, it’s the nearly inaudible whispered moans of ‘I love you’ that Bruce knows aren’t really meant for him, but it’s nice to pretend.

When fake Bruce finally cums, he gasps loudly, wraps his arms around Bruce’s necks, and holds him tightly to his chest while he shallowly thrusts against Bruce’s cock trapped between their abdomens. The following broken moans are what tip Bruce over the edge.

He hides his face in the crook of fake Bruce’s neck, openly moaning and digging his fingers into his well-muscled shoulders. It had been a while since Bruce had ever come that hard, or let himself make any noises other than pants, or groans that never left his throat.

He laid there on top of fake Bruce’s chest, letting the android run his fingers through his hair in a daze while the both of them panted, chests heaving.

“Are you feeling better now?” fake Bruce manages to say after a few minutes of numbly and slowly running their hands along each other’s bodies. “I could see it on your face, you’re not coping well with something.”

Bruce simply hums and continues staring off at the blank wall, taking in what the android was saying, but it not registering for a few moments. “The Justice League is a stressful job, and a lot of unpredictable and unexplainable things happen. But some things…”

“You can’t explain?”

Bruce hums again, and pushes himself up. Strings up cum drip down from his abdomen, and he cannot help but wince, and reach for the tissues on his night stand. “Memories I vaguely remember, but I know never happened. Like dreams I’m struggling to remember after I wake up.”

Fake Bruce uses the clump of tissues Bruce hands to him to clean up the front of his own suit, and tucks his dick back into it as well. “I’m familiar with the notion too. Mine was from the memory wipes, however. What about you?”

Bruce narrows his eyes for a moment, before hanging his head in his hands. “Of all things, Booster Gold. At first I thought it was strange dreams, then I thought it was him using his suit to get out of trouble but…”

“But?” Fake Bruce sits down next to Bruce and rubs his shoulder.

“But in the memories, I’m not angry, I feel… proud. Like Booster is going back in time to erase every good memory I’ve ever had of him. It seems ridiculous to focus on something like this when I have other things to be thinking about.”

“And yet, it’s the first thing that comes to mind, because you want to be proud of the hero that Booster is becoming. He may be an idiot, and money hungry at the worst of times, but you want to see the best of him.”

Bruce lets out something that could be said to sound like a brief chuckle. “We’re talking an awful about Booster for a man I can barely stand being around half the time.”

Fake Bruce furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head to the side. “Then you don’t…? I was programmed to have a strong emotional affection with Booster Gold. Are you telling me you don’t?”

“What?” Bruce snaps his head to the side, eyes wide. “What do you mean by emotional affection?”

“I can barely trust him with being a hero, and I have to uphold my pretense of being cold, stoic, and harsh, but… Booster Gold is my rock, and is the reason I keep fighting as hard as I do. I may not have the same motivations as you for fighting lunatics in costumes, but for me, seeing Booster being so aloof and smiling, even in the middle of a life or death situation, makes me fight all the harder.” A small smile creeps up on fake Bruce’s lips.

“I suppose Darkseid had to make interpretations for why we fight as hard as we do, but to fight for Booster Gold is a ridiculous notion. If anything, I would keep fighting as hard as I do for Superman, someone I truly consider a friend, and not someone who constantly endangers our missions, and causes more trouble than he’s worth half the time. No matter how many times I lecture him, the few times I take him out, all he does is mess everything up.” The words flow out of Bruce, years of pent up frustration coming to head. There was no one in the Justice League he could complain to, no one as Bruce Wayne, but himself?

“Understandable. I may not have the same experiences as you, but my Booster is just as uncontrollable and chaotic as yours is, it would seem. And maybe it’s because of my programming, or because your Booster is hellbent on erasing your memories, but my Booster is self-assured and reliable in battle. Even if his powers don’t work, he always has my back. Even when he messes up, he cleans them up, and proves that I can trust him on my six. And deep down, even if my Booster isn’t the real deal, they’re the same person.” Fake Bruce shakes his head, and leans his arms against his legs. “Sorry, I’m a little more than protective over him. Blame Darkseid for that if you want.”

It… It gave him something to think about. He almost forgets that he’s been at this for over a decade, and has had to suffer through cruelty and death to hone himself into the perfect crime fighting beacon he is today. On the other hand, Booster Gold was a normal man who decided to become a hero out of the goodness of his heart. And for money, but if he truly only cared about money he would have stopped trying to be a hero a long time ago.

“We should go shower, it’s been over a day since I took the suit off last, and I’m certain out little, ahem, escapade didn’t help much with our hygiene.” Bruce abruptly stands up, and rushes to leave the room.

“Agreed, I don’t think I’ve ever taken this suit off before.” Fake Bruce quickly follows, tossing the soiled tissues in the trash bin as he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh, yeah, Batman/Booster endgoals here. I'm a slut for my bitch boy Michael Carter.


End file.
